


Wanna Be Around You

by StarryFIF2



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cursed Castiel, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Castiel, Kissing, M/M, No kissing happens until after he's adult, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryFIF2/pseuds/StarryFIF2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I think it's just an Angel thing.” Sam shrugs. “Castiel—grown up Cas, that is—was always standing close to you and watching your every move. Maybe Angels need constant touch when they're small.”</p><p>“I don't know, man,” Dean bats Cas' fingers away from where they are trying to trace his lips, “I always figured Angels were born as giant, smiting dicks. Touchy-feely crap doesn't seem like their M.O.”</p><p>(Or the one where Raphael deages Castiel with a curse, Cas kinda imprints on Dean, and there's mentions of Dean's awesome, pure soul. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanna Be Around You

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [this prompt](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/80640.html?thread=29817088#t29817088). It doesn't follow it as closely as I'd originally planned, but I kinda like it.
> 
> Translated into Thai [here](https://nickysu13.wordpress.com/2015/05/17/wanna-be-around-you/) by Kin-Cy. Thank you!
> 
>    
>  _Set in some vague time in season six, after Sam's been resouled. What do you mean, Gabriel's supposed to be dead during season six? I can't hear you over my denial. (Or, I guess the fic's AU)._

He awakes in a field of wheat, the gold stalks brushing across his face. His eyes are drawn to a snail slithering along one of the stalks closest to his left hand. His face itches from the dirt pressing against his cheek. His feet twitch, as if they'd been electrocuted.

He sits up, and the world tilts like it's on a merry-go-round. His head pounds, and for a moment he feels as if he's going to vomit. He closes his eyes and inhales, and suddenly, the nausea is gone. He is alone in nature, and the pungent scent of the earth and the wheat surrounding him is soothing. The wind caresses his cheek, and its cool kiss brings a smile to his lips.

“Castiel!” He turns at the sound of his name being called, his eyes drawn to a tall man with shaggy brown hair. It is the other man, however, that captures and holds Castiel's attention. His soul, so bright and golden in its purity, is breathtaking. Bands of gold and silver caress the man's skin, giving him an incandescent glow.

Castiel is mesmerized; he stands, brushes dirt off of his suit pants, and turns to the man, no, his Father, and lets his grace lightly brush against his Father's soul. His Father staggers, and the shaggy haired man touches his shoulder with obvious concern.

“Cas,” His Father says. Castiel tilts his head at the shortening of his name, but nods. “Thank God.” It is strange for God to thank himself, but Castiel smiles nonetheless.

“He's a child now, just like Gabriel said.” The other man says.

His Father snorts and holds his hand out for Castiel, which the Angel readily takes. “Yeah, thanks, Sammy. I wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't said something.” He pauses and says, “I'm just relieved his clothes shrank with him. Gabriel seemed convinced we'd find him naked in the wheat field.”

Sammy rolls his eyes, but turns to God. “What do we do now, Dean?”

His Father—Dean—seems troubled. “I have no idea, Sam.”

(()))

Castiel refuses to let Dean out of his sight, so Sam is the one who goes out to meet with Gabriel for further answers. Gabriel had made it very clear, the night before when he'd appeared without warning in their motel room and told them that Castiel had been cast out of heaven, that it was too dangerous for Castiel to see either him or Balthazar.

Of course it would be dangerous. Story of his and Sam's fucking life.

That leaves Dean alone in a motel room with a child Castiel, who doesn't seem older than six. He's glued to Dean's side, his fingers curled in the fabric of Dean's jacket. He won't stop staring at Dean, and anytime Dean so much as speaks, Castiel smiles and rubs his head against Dean's arm like he's a freakin' cat.

It's beyond weird.

“Do you want something to eat, Castiel?” Dean asks, desperately, after the silence has grown uncomfortable. Castiel rubs his cheek against Dean's arm, again, and sighs his contentment.

“Cas?” Dean prompts. Castiel blinks at Dean, and smiles. “I'll take that as a 'yes', then.” Dean tries to stand, but Cas growls, making Dean freeze in surprise from the unexpected noise. The Angel shakes his head so hard the side of his head knocks against Dean's upper arm.

“Ok then,” Dean mutters. His arm is beginning to cramp, so he shifts his arm around Castiel's shoulder. It's really weird, sitting on a motel bed with a small child, in some dingy, no-name motel, and Dean is so very, very uncomfortable. He wants Sam to get back, pronto.

Castiel lets out a soft, chirping noise, and melts against Dean's side. Dean startles when he feels something soft brush his face. He turns and looks at Cas, and the angel is gazing at him adoringly. The tickling sensation is back, but this time against his chin, and then it trails up his face to his forehead. Cas lets out that chirping noise, again, and cuddles closer.

How is this Dean's life?

((()))

It's 1:47 in the afternoon when Sam opens the door to their motel room. Sam seems exhausted as he settles beside his brother on the bed, though his mouth twitches whenever he looks over at Dean with an Angel plastered to his side.

Cas is eying Sam distrustfully. He lets out a chirp, which is probably meant to be threatening, but instead sounds cute. He shifts beside Dean, and it takes Dean a second longer than it should for him to realize Cas is trembling with fear.

“He's afraid of me.” Sam states. He watches as Dean settles Cas onto his lap and pets his shoulder in an awkward attempt to soothe the young Angel. Dean succeeds, though, and Castiel stops shaking and melts against Dean's chest with a quiet trill.

“Yeah.” Dean answers. His eyes are troubled as they meet Sam's. “What did Gabriel say?”

“Raphael cursed Cas and seized control of heaven. Gabriel, Balthazar, and a few other Angels who are still loyal and brave enough to support Cas, are trying to figure out how to reverse what was done to him.”

Dean curses. “Raphael has enough mojo to turn Cas into a kid?”

“Apparently.” Sam sighs. “He still has his grace, obviously, just not his memories. It's just that and Jimmy's body that were affected.”

Castiel clutches harder at Dean's chest and trills his annoyance when Dean tries to move the Angel off of his lap. Goddamnit, his legs are going numb and he has to piss really badly. Invisible feathers trail across the skin of Dean's face in a way that Dean guesses is meant to be comforting.

“I don't know what to do with him.” Dean admits. He hates that he's at a loss as to what he should do, but caring for a young Angel, especially one in full possession of his grace, is a daunting task.

What if Cas goes nuclear and hurts not only Sam and Dean, but innocent bystanders? What if Raphael is hunting Cas? Can they protect Castiel from the full force of heaven? Would it be better to hand off the Angel to Gabriel and Balthazar, and let them care for their vulnerable brother?

“I don't think Gabriel and Balthazar are an option,” Sam muses, seemingly reading Dean's thoughts. “He seems far too attached to you.” Dean narrows his eyes as a grin spreads across his brother's face. “He's like a baby duck. He's imprinted on you.”

“I'm not a freakin' mother duck, Sammy.” Dean grouses.

Castiel's face crumples and he lets out a sad, musical note, as Dean settles him onto the bed. Cas reaches for Dean as the hunter makes to stand, but Dean easily evades their grasp. He shuts the bathroom door on Cas' forlorn face.

Not even a minute passes before the bathroom door opens and Cas is by his side, his fingers wrapped around Dean's pant leg. Sam's mocking laughter is unwelcome. He finishes using the bathroom with Castiel treading underfoot.

((()))

It seems he is a freakin' mother duck, because for the rest of the day, there's nowhere he can go without Cas following. He goes to make a sandwich and Castiel trails behind. He goes outside to the ice machine with Cas one step behind. Later that night, Dean locks the door to the bathroom so he can shave in peace. He ends up cutting himself when Cas materializes beside him.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean grabs some toilet paper and presses it against the shallow cut. Cas whimpers as he sees Dean's blood. Suddenly the lights flicker and pop and the shitty bathroom window rattles, and oh, Holy shit, no.

“Cas!” Dean yells as he kneels beside the young Angel. Dean's eyes water from the force of the light Cas is now emitting; if he doesn't calm Cas down, he's going to have to shut them or risk going blind. “Calm down!”

Cas' hand settles onto his cheek with a gentleness that makes Dean's chest ache, not that he'd ever admit it. Dean can see Cas' wings in his peripheral vision. They're much smaller than the first time Dean caught sight of them what feels like a lifetime ago. Cas' wings settle around Dean and block out the light from his grace.

“Cas!” He repeats. He can feel the silky smoothness of the Angel's feathers brushing his lips and face. “You need to relax, man! I'm okay! It's just a cut!” Cas freezes so abruptly, it's as if Dean hit the 'pause' button on a remote.

“Hurt?” Cas queries. His voice is young and uncertain, and very, very angry. Dean gives into the urge to wrap an arm around Castiel. No one can see, anyway.

“I'm all right, buddy. So you can put away your grace. There's no one here to smite but me.”

Cas' wings disappear, and Dean takes that as silent permission to sit down. Castiel's tear filled eyes fill his vision. They explore Dean's face, searching, perhaps, to see if Dean is lying about his injury. It's surreal that Cas nearly imploded because Dean nicked himself with a razor. His hand is still a warm weight on Dean's chin. Cas chirps and touches a trembling finger against the small cut.

Dean unwraps his arm from Cas' middle and says, “It's already stopped bleeding. I'm okay.”

“Okay.” Cas parrots. His finger presses against the cut. The cut tingles for a second and Dean knows that Cas has healed him. The Angel smiles triumphantly and settles contently in Dean's lap.

 _Jesus Fucking Christ_ Dean thinks, desperately, _What am I supposed to do with him?_

((()))

Sam and Dean establish, over the course of the night, that Cas has the mentality of a young child. A powerful, souped up, **Angelic child** , but a child nonetheless. He tolerates Sam's presence, but he refuses to let Sam get close to him and Dean.

He's afraid of nearly everything but Dean. His grace practically explodes out of him when Sam makes the mistake of turning the television on. It is only their hunter reflexes that save Dean and his brother from having their eyes burnt out.

Castiel either can't, or won't, say more than one word at a time. Even then, he's only said two words to Dean, and he seems uninterested in saying more. Dean spends a long, frustrating hour trying to get Castiel to vocalize either what he wants, or what he's feeling. He gives up after Castiel seems more interested in plastering himself to Dean's side and touching him with his feathers.

The touching thing is another thing that Castiel seems unable to grasp isn't normal child-like behavior. Cas is content to remain by Dean's side, or follow him around, but he isn't happy unless some part of him is touching Dean. It doesn't seem to matter if it is his hand wrapped in Dean's jacket, or his feathers trailing across Dean's skin. He wants contact with Dean at all times.

“Shouldn't you be more worried about a child molesting me?” Dean asks his brother. Sam looks sickened at Dean's choice of words, which, okay, is pretty gross, but still. Dean is weirded out by Cas' behavior, and Sam should be, too.

“I think it's just an Angel thing.” Sam shrugs. “Castiel—grown up Cas, that is—was always standing close to you and watching your every move. Maybe Angels need constant touch when they're small.”

“I don't know, man,” Dean bats Cas' fingers away from where they are trying to trace his lips, “I always figured Angels were born as giant, smiting dicks. Touchy-feely crap doesn't seem like their M.O.”

Sam doesn't seem convinced. “Well, he's your duckling. You tell him to stop.”

“I've tried. He just makes these bird noises and looks sad. I just end up giving in.”

Dean frowns as his brother starts to laugh. Sam waves away his questions about what is so funny. “Nothing, Dean. Maybe you'll figure it out some day.”

((()))

“Absolutely not,” Dean says firmly the next morning. “We are not bringing Cas to a diner. Do you not remember how I told you he lost control just because I **nicked** myself with a razor?”

His words fall on deaf ears, though, as Sam gives Dean Bitch Face #4. Dean gives up, because he knows his brother, and he knows he's not going to win this argument. Sammy wants pancakes, and he wants out of this motel room, never mind that he was out with Gabriel when Cas nearly went nova the first time last night.

“Maybe I should stay back?” Dean suggests hesitantly, never mind that he'd like out of the motel room, as well. “Or, maybe you could watch him?”

Sam doesn't bother to dignify that with a response. Instead he looks pointedly at Cas, who is touching Dean's neck reverently from where he's sitting beside Dean on the motel bed.

“He definitely likes to touch you.” Sam teases.

Dean sighs as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, which, you know, it often is. “I know, it's fucking weird. I can't get him to stop.”

Cas trills happily, and buries the fingers of his free hand in Dean's hair.

(()))

The diner is a no-go almost as soon as they open the door. A pretty, buxom woman smiles at Dean and almost simultaneously, an older gentleman with a crying baby shoulders Sam on his way out. Cas bites his bottom lip, presses firmer against Dean's side, and chirps what Dean now recognizes as his anxious noise. Sam curses and backs out of the diner. Dean automatically follows.

“Cas,” Dean chastises as the three of them make their way to the Impala. “It's just people doing people things. There's no reason to be upset.” Cas looks up at Dean and rubs his cheek against Dean's arm. Dean sighs and pats Cas' shoulder.

“So that won't work.” Sam says, unnecessarily, his eyes on Castiel.

“You think?” Dean snaps. “I told you Cas wouldn't go for that many people.”

Sam keeps watching the Angel. “He seems to hate anyone around you.”

“Protective bastard.” Dean complains.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Yes, Dean, I'm sure that's what Cas is objecting to.” He continues before Dean can ask him what the hell he means, “I guess it's the McDonald's drive-thru.”

(()))

Castiel nearly has a meltdown in the drive-thru the second the tinny voice asks for their order. Sam takes over and places their order as Dean frantically attempts to calm Cas down. It isn't until Dean threads his fingers through Cas' hair that the Angel settles.

Dean refuses to meet his brother's eyes.

((()))

Sam and Dean spend the rest of the day cooped up in their motel room, watching television with the closed captions turned on. Sam is absorbed with a “Law and Order” marathon. That leaves Dean to keep an eye on Cas, which basically means sitting on the motel bed with the Angel glued to his side.

He falls asleep with Cas' fingers tracing his cheek, the Angel's soft chirping in his ears.

(()))

“Well, well, isn't this cozy.” Gabriel's amused voice wakes Dean from a restful slumber. He's on his feet in a heartbeat, his body shielding Castiel's small body from the Archangel's gaze. Cas chirps in confusion behind him. Sam gets off his own bed and goes over to Gabriel.

“You found a way to cure Castiel?” Gabriel nods. “Thank God.”

“Or rather Baz and I.” Gabriel smiles triumphantly.

Dean frowns. “I thought it was too dangerous for Castiel to see you.” Cas peers at Gabriel with wide, curious eyes.

Gabriel waves his hand dismissively. “Get with the program, Dean-o. I wouldn't be here if it **wasn't** safe. Or is your worry for your Cassy making you stupid?”

“Gabriel, don't be mean.” Sam chastises, like he's Gabriel's freaking mother. The Archangel huffs, annoyed, but the smile he gives Sam is genuine.

“So can you cure him or not?” Dean asks impatiently. All Gabriel seems to want to do is stand there and smile at Sam. Sam is smiling back, and, God, no, Dean refuses to let his mind go there.

“Of course.” Gabriel reaches into his pocket and procures a small vial filled with a turquoise liquid. “The cure was so simple Balthazar and I overlooked it. It's rather embarrassing.”

“What's the cure?” Sam asks. Of course his geeky brother would want to know.

“Water from the River of Jordan, mixed with some dirt from ancient Canaan, and a ground angel feather.” Gabriel crouches beside Castiel and uncaps the vial.

“Of course, it's all so obvious.” Dean says, sarcastically. Cas buries his face into Dean's lower back and refuses to even look at Gabriel.

“Come on, Castiel,” Sam soothes, “Your brother's going to make you all better.”

“I doubt he even knows anything is wrong with him.” Gabriel spares Dean a look before focusing back on Castiel. “You should try and get him to drink this. It's either that or I can just grab him.” He laughs at Dean's indignant look. “I'm just joking, Dean-o! Always so protective of my brother.”

Dean ignores his brother's answering laugh, and instead reaches for Cas. The Angel's gaze is imploring as he meets Dean's eyes. Dean squeezes Cas' shoulder and accepts the vial Gabriel hands to him.

He kneels beside Cas and gently places the vial in Cas' hand. “You need to drink this, okay?”

Cas tilts his head and rests his forehead against Dean's. Dean watches as Castiel drinks the liquid, his lips settling into a moue of disgust at the taste. Gabriel draws Castiel away from Dean, despite Castiel's chirps of distress.

For a long moment, nothing happens. Dean begins to grow anxious; he wonders if Gabriel and Balthazar are wrong about the cure. Even Sam seems unsettled and restless; and then, the drink takes effect.

One moment Castiel is watching Dean with big, sad eyes, and the next he falls to his knees. Before either Dean or Sam can react, Gabriel's wings extend and solidify into giant, black, feathered walls around his brother, effectively blocking him from view. A second later, Gabriel's wings withdraw. Dean meets Castiel's familiar piercing eyes as the Angel materializes before him.

“We need to talk, Dean.” Dean doesn't have a chance to speak before Castiel's fingers lightly touch his forehead, and teleports him from the motel room.

((()))

“So you're back to normal.” Dean states unnecessarily. Castiel brought them back to the wheat field where he and Sam had originally found the cursed Angel.

“It seems I am.” Cas' mouth opens and closes a few times before he continues. “I wanted to thank you for watching out for me in my weakened state. I was far safer with you and your brother than I would have been with my brethren.”

Dean shifts uncomfortably. “It's nothing that you wouldn't have done for me, if our situations were reversed.”

“That is indeed true.” Castiel's eyes bore into Dean's. Dean's skin feels a size too small, and it takes all of his self-control to keep himself standing before the Angel, and not begin pacing.

“So, if that's it?” Dean asks, after a long, pregnant pause.

“It is beautiful.” Castiel says, seemingly out of nowhere.

And, really, “What?”

“Your soul.” A finger touches Dean's chest, over his heart. “It is beautiful, and pure, and its tendrils are wrapped around your skin. I was memorized, when I saw you through my younger eyes. I thought you were my Father.”

All Dean can think to say is, “You thought I was **God**?”

Castiel's eyes burn with a holy light that could only have been his grace. “Briefly. By the time your brother left to visit Gabriel, I had divulged that you were not my Father, but rather one of his perfect creations that I must protect at all costs.”

Dean ran a shaking hand through his hair. He wonders why Castiel is telling him all of this, and if he should stop the Angel. This is far too much mushy, touchy-feely crap. His brain already feels overloaded. Castiel continues before Dean can decide what he wants to say.

“Those two days I was with you, I couldn't bare to be apart from you. The touch of your soul, its perfection, was a soothing balm to me. It kept me from questioning why I was on Earth, when, as far as I knew, no Angel had walked among humans for eons. My focus on you kept me from realizing the true purpose of Raphael's curse: to lose myself to madness as I wandered among the Earth, helpless, alone, and confused.”

“You were hardly helpless, though. You had your grace.” Dean argues.

“It would not have remained with me for long. As my confusion grew, it'd leak from my body, as my vessel is not meant to contain my chaotic, out of control grace. Over time, I'd become mad; a danger not only to myself, but all the humans around me. You kept that from happening, Dean. My focus on you saved many lives.”

“Raphael is crazy. That has to be the stupidest curse ever.” Castiel shifts closer to Dean and rests his shoulder against Dean's. Dean tenses for a brief moment, before he relaxes.

“The curse is ancient and hasn't been used in many millenniums, and what he counted on happening did not. Raphael expected me to lose my grace as I fell to Earth. He believed I would be untraceable once I reached Earth. Instead, I fell with my grace intact, and you and your brother rescued me before my enemies could harm me. Raphael instead tried to locate me through Gabriel and Balthazar. Both of my brothers are far more powerful than Raphael gave them credit for, and they drew Raphael's attention until I could be cured.”

“Wait a minute,” Dean protests. He holds his hand up as if to keep Castiel from speaking. “I thought you didn't remember anything. How do you know what Raphael did to you?”

Castiel huffs almost impatiently. “Gabriel explained all the instant the cure took effect.”

“Of course. Freakin' angels.”

Castiel smiles his familiar, small smile, and stands in front of Dean. His palm settles over Dean's eyes, blocking his view for a second. It's gone before Dean can voice a protest.

“What—“ Dean doesn't need to continue speaking, because he sees what Castiel has done. Bands of silver and gold dance across his skin, visible even through his clothes. His hands sparkle like Christmas lights as Dean holds them, disbelieving, in front of his face.

“That is what I see every time I look at you, Dean Winchester. The purity of the Righteous Man's soul shines from beneath your very skin.” Castiel breathes. His hands clasp Dean's, and Dean's breath catches not only at Cas' words, spoken in a soft, reverent voice, but at the warmth of the Angel's skin against his.

“Cas...” Dean trails off, uncertain just what he wants to say. His words stick behind a lump in his throat.

“You are precious to me, Dean. You kept me sane while I was cursed. You taught me free will. You are my friend, and yet, so much more.”

Dean can only repeat what he'd just barely managed to croak out: “Cas.”

“You're mine, just as much as I'm yours.” Cas' eyes burn, and Dean can't bare to meet them anymore. He looks instead at their clasped hands. And then, when he can't bare to look at the symbol of what Castiel is voicing, Dean instead looks at the light from his own soul sparkling through the arm of his green jacket. It's breathtaking and awe inspiring; it humbles Dean to his very core.

“Dean.” Castiel breathes. He lifts Dean's chin with a finger. “Dean Winchester. Righteous Man, with a soul so pure and beautiful, an Angel of God would risk everything to protect you. He'd fall for you. He **has** fallen for you.”

There's only one thing Dean can do in the face of Cas' declaration. He grasps the back of Cas' head with his hand and mashes their lips together. Castiel laughs against his lips, jubilant, and kisses back with all the fervor of an Angel in love. Dean meets his passion with all of the feelings he's denied, but have been there all along.

Castiel's wings materialize and solidify around them, and enclose around their bodies, blocking them from view. In the darkness of Castiel's wings, Dean Winchester's soul illuminates the darkness in beautiful lines of the richest gold and silver.

It's everything Dean ever wanted, but never let himself believe he could have. As their lips meet again and again, Dean knows he's where he belongs.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a Tumblr [here](http://starryfif2.tumblr.com/) where I reblog funny stuff, Harry/Louis things from One Direction, Hannibal, and, of course, Supernatural gifs. Come check it out if you want. *Shrug*


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